Stepping into Creativity

“Don't be satisfied with stories, how things have gone with others. Unfold your own myth.” 

― Rumi

I've never thought of myself as creative. Industrious...yes, capable...absolutely, even a bit "outside the box" in the way I do things.  But not creative. "Creative" is a word reserved for artists and interior decorators - those who give cause for the eyes and heart to feast.  The word has never been one I would use to describe myself.  However, I was recently given cause to contemplate moving forward more creatively.

Enjoying the activities of a summer festival, I decided to have a little henna done.  I like the natural feel of henna. Once applied, it stains the skin in a semi-permanent way.  If done well, the design will last a few days to a few weeks. I usually choose a design that has spiritual meaning for me and allow that design to inspire my study of some new concept. The impermanence of henna gives me enough time for spiritual reflection, while still allowing me to move on to something else fairly quickly. These are short periods of deep study and have proven very valuable.  In this case, I wasn't sure what the design would be but I knew something would come to me.  

As often happens, the perfect person appeared -  a lovely artist who offered to apply the henna in exchange for a donation to a scholarship fund. Score!  I get art - and I get to do something good at the same time. How do you say no to that?!  She suggested I check in with her the next day when we could relax, enjoy the time together, and get to know each other. I agreed.

When the time came, I still had no idea what design I wanted. Before I could address that issue, the artist smiled at me kindly and asked if she could henna my foot, explaining that she had a design she really wanted to use. Spontaneously, I heard the words "of course" fall out of my mouth. After all, it was something she was doing for a good cause and she should get some joy out of it!  I have to admit that I felt a little disappointed that the significance of this experience might be lost. (We tell ourselves such interesting stories, don't we?)

The design was complex and took quite a while to apply.  I had not considered that I would need to be still, not only for the artist to complete the design but long enough for that design, at the flex point of my ankle, to dry.  We started about 1pm and I stood up to walk about 3 hours later.  The majority of that time, I simply sat and waited. I hadn't planned on the waiting time so I didn't bring a book with me and I was at a festival on a mountaintop so no Facebook scrolling or other electronic time passer was available. I simply waited.

In the waiting, I found time to meditate. I admired the design on my foot and considered my belief that every person I encounter is the face of the Holy expressing itself.  If this young woman was the living expression of the Divine, what was her art expressing to me?

Creativity. That's what came to mind. It is something that feels so far outside my existence.  In my rather industrial way of living life, I do what I do toward an end purpose.  As a speaker, I know some people might think my speaking is creative - but the truth is, I teach to a "point."  There is something I feel directed to share and I teach with the intention of getting to that point and making that point memorable and accessible. I don't give effort to flowery pontifications. I just speak.  I just....

I just write.  I just do.  I just generate whatever system or process is needed in any situation.  I never think of any of this as creative - just ... well.... "just."

This art was gifted to my left foot. The left side of the body is directed by the right side of the brain - the creative side. Interesting. And my foot. Also interesting. This particular festival is always a threshold for me. It's a place where, in alchemical terms, the lead of life's heaviness is released in order for the gold of one's divinity to shine forth. The threshold between those two is transformation. That transformation takes places through a literal series of steps. Every step is both release and invocation.

Now that I have arrived home - my every step calls forth the imagination. I am invited to release what blocks my creativity and to seek the muse that will inspire it. I am called to question what creativity is, where it lives within me, and what I can do with it. I hear the whispers of something fun and exciting ready to be birthed - but do not know its face yet.  

This henna is a strong dye and will last another week or so. The fine lines will give way to the bolder aspects as it slowly disappears. In the end, the boldest mark is the heart in the center. How interesting that I have this extended time to reflect on what my heart wants to create.   

A long time ago I realized that every occurrence in life is an opportunity for the Divine within each of us to show up and interact in a face-to-face way. Every person, every happening, every interaction is the Holy expressing.  Every moment in life is sacramental.  Every place in life is hallowed ground.  Every shared breath is divine communication. In that moment and this, at that place and this, with that person and with you, the presence of the Divine is ceaseless and whispers sweetly in our ears, beckoning us to greater intimacy.  For this, I am grateful.

From the Perimeter

“Beyond the edge of the world, there’s a space where emptiness and substance neatly overlap, where past and future form a continuous, endless loop. And, hovering about, there are signs no one has ever read, chords no one has ever heard.” 

― Haruki Murakami

Every year or two I have the opportunity to travel to an event called Spiritfire.  By its founder's definition 

"SpiritFire provides a nourishing and inspirational environment in which drummers, dancers, chanters, poets, visual artists, and seekers of all types can both honor individual diversity yet share a common and powerful bond at the fire.  Each night we acknowledge our connections in the spirit of joyous celebration, deep listening, infectious groove, and ecstatic trance!"

The Fire. We gather at the fire. From 11pm to sunrise, we sing, we dance, we chant, we serve, we pray, each in our own way, for transformation. This event, attended by about 150, attracts people of all ages and walks of life, expressing creativity in wildly different ways. It is held in a very rustic and natural environment that provides its own challenges. One must be willing to interact with the natural world to participate. It is an outdoor event held on a mountaintop in the woods.  

After more than thirty years of attending events like this, my experience has changed. In earlier years, I reached ecstatic bliss in these ceremonies - dancing, chanting and communing with the energy of the living fire. These days, it is different. I am older now.  My body requires different care. I once loved to circle very close to the fire, its heat often leaving me with something similar to a sunburn. Now I tend to the perimeter. It's a bit cooler and less "tranced-out" but so very potent for me.

You see, at the perimeter of the circle, I can take my time. In the center, one is often caught up in the swirl and twirl of the energy, moved by the call to wildness that blazes in the crackling flames. There was a time that I lived for the chance to feel that wild sense of freedom. That has changed. The perimeter calls me now. It's different on the perimeter. 

Those that hold the edges of the circle often move with steadfast control. The steps are slower and driven by an inner knowing - the knowing that every-single-intentional-step holds the potential for connection. On the perimeter, we are warmed by each other's eyes, the numinous presence of the ancestors, and the brilliant strength of Spirit shining forth in the fire's reflection on the branches of the trees. This year, for the first time, I gave time to connecting with the drummers drumming. I watched the faces of those who provide the sonic bed upon which we move and sing. The beauty I observed is beyond description. It warmed my heart in a different way than the fire does. The same can be said for the harmonies I heard in the chanting - harmonies that blend in a unique way when you are standing on the edge - rising and falling with grace and emotion.

From the perimeter, I often pray for the safety and transformation of those who are ablaze with change both in the circle and in other aspects of my life. Those of us, at the edge, are seers - observing the holy in its deepest expression and "catching" when the heat of the fire overwhelms the ones in the center.  We use the sound of a rattle to provide a safe boundary so those within the circle know where they are.

Others on the perimeter might describe this differently.  We all experience life in our own ways - and I am grateful for that. I feel certain, however, that they experience the same sense of kinship I do as we walk around the perimeter and pass each other throughout the night. Our faces become touchstones for the passing of time and there is a nameless thing that happens between us, a knowing that our contribution to the process is powerful and important. As the years pass, it is important to find ways to contribute that are different from earlier times.

It occurs to me that walking the perimeter is very similar to the way we walk through life when we have passed through the gates of experience and gained wisdom. We use our stories to sound the signal that the catharsis at the center, where the fire of life burns hot, brings needed change. We chant the prayer that provides a boundary so those who are living in experiential ways learn how to use hope and faith as a safety net. We walk alongside them, moving with steady steps and heralding that there is, indeed, a knowing that comes from living life fully. We teach the songs we have learned. We serve as we are called.  We move in the way a hundred-foot-tall tree moves in a strong wind...the way that has kept it from breaking and falling for so many years.  We witness what is transpiring, confident that all will be well, because - well... it was for us, and wisdom tells us it will be for others. It is such a gift to witness what one formerly experienced and know the transformation that can come from it.  That witness is a seed of hope for the future.

As age and experience move me to the edges of life, it is not the wild and unpredictable insight that I seek, but the wise sense of knowing that ushers in my own transformation. I am aware of the process of life - the learning, the growing, the changing, and the coming to one's true self over and over again.  I know more about who I really am and that I make the world a little bit better by my being.  This knowing brings me infinite peace. 

I am grateful for the Fire - and I am grateful to walk its edges, where life is slow and steady, and a little cooler - and where I can witness the Divine in the eyes that witness me.